by Linda Ford
He got a wagon from the livery barn and drove to the house. For a moment, he sat holding the slack reins in his hands. He could not, in all honesty, delay any longer and he jumped down and went indoors.
Emily stood in the middle of the room, a bonnet on her head and a valise at her heels. Mikey sat on the floor and hugged Muffin.
Emily pulled in her lips. “I’ve told him several times that he’s going to meet his new mama and papa, but either he didn’t comprehend or he didn’t want any more changes.”
Jesse suspected the latter.
Gram watched from nearby, her eyes glistening with unshed tears and a hankie twisted in her hands. “I won’t cry. I don’t want to upset the boy. But I hate to see you go.”
Jesse thought part of Gram’s emotion was due to the fact she didn’t know what lay ahead for them and wished she could keep them here safe and sound. Feelings not unlike Jesse’s. He caught up the bag filled with their few possessions. “Who’s ready to go for a ride?”
Mikey clung to Muffin. “Doggie go?”
Jesse squatted before him. “Muffin has to stay with Gram.”
Mikey’s arms tightened around Muffin’s neck enough that Jesse feared for the dog.
Gram hurried into the kitchen and brought out a basket. “Mikey, there are cookies in here to eat on your trip.”
Mikey looked from the offered treat to the dog and slowly released Muffin. He stood. His fists were curled and his jaw set.
Jesse looked at Emily, and saw she, too, fought her emotions. If only he could change things for all of them, but the boy was spoken for and Emily needed to find out who she was. He took Mikey’s hand and the picnic basket and settled them in the wagon before going back to get their bags.
Gram wrapped Emily in her arms. “I wish you nothing but the best. However, if things don’t work out, you are always welcome here.”
Emily sniffed. “Thank you for everything.” She clung to Gram a second longer then headed for the door without glancing back.
Gram caught Jesse’s arm. “Make sure they are okay before you leave them.”
“I will.” He hurried to help Emily to the seat, stowed their things and climbed up beside her. He sat motionless, unable to bring himself to flick the reins. If she spoke one word of doubt he would leave them both with Gram and go explain to the Newmans there’d been a change of plans.
She glanced his direction, then away again and said nothing. Her wishes were plain to see.
“Giddyap.” The wheels turned slowly at first. He could halt the wagon in an instant. But no one uttered a word. He glanced at Mikey. The boy’s bottom lip trembled. Jesse looked at Emily. She stared straight ahead, her jaw set hard, her hands clenched so tight her knuckles were like white marbles.
The town fell behind them and the open road lay ahead. It would take several hours to reach the place George had described. How would he endure watching Mikey and Emily in such misery for the length of the trip?
“I wonder if there’s a little boy who would like to help drive the wagon?” he asked.
Mikey jerked toward him, his eyes wide with surprise. “Me?”
“Yup. You’re the best boy for the job.” Jesse pulled Mikey to his knees and cupped the little hands in one of his.
Mikey took his task very seriously and spoke orders to the horses. Of course, neither the adults nor the horses understood a word.
Jesse shifted closer to Emily. “If you’re not happy with the situation you can change your mind.”
“I know. But I wouldn’t leave Mikey on his own until he’s settled.”
He’d meant Mikey as well as Emily, but he didn’t say that. “I wouldn’t want you to miss the beauty of the drive because you’re worried.”
“Who says I’m worried?”
He wrapped his arm about her stiff shoulders. “You are so tense I could rest a board across here, and the muscles in your cheeks are twitching.”
She relaxed her shoulders and gave a smile that was almost a grimace. “All gone. See.”
He chuckled. “Good. Now look about you. See the mountain peaks. Some people like them best with snowcaps. I like them this time of year, all blue and moody.”
She looked at him. “Why Jesse Hill. I think you might be a poet.”
Thankfully his dark skin would hide his blush.
She touched his cheeks. “Too much sun?” Her innocent tone did not fool him. His skin had given away his embarrassment. She smiled and shifted her attention to the mountains. “‘As the mountains are round about Jerusalem, so the LORD is round about his people from henceforth even forever.’” She slowly faced him. “The Lord is with us. He will guide and protect.”
He nodded. He knew it and wanted her to find comfort in also believing, but sometimes it was hard to let the Lord run things when they seemed to be going a direction he didn’t care for.
She continued. “I have been praying to regain my memory, and this is the only thing I have that provides direction.”
What could he say? He wanted her to get her memory back. Wanted her to learn her past and who she was. The trouble was, even in such a short time, he had grown to like who she was in the present. He knew she might forget him when her memory returned.
He should be used to being forgotten after all the times his mother seemed to have done so. And then Agnes. And the other girls whom he had not allowed himself to grow fond of. Which, he freely admitted, might explain why they had so readily moved on to other beaus.
They stopped at a little stream for the picnic Gram had prepared. He spread a gray woolen blanket for them to sit on, though Mikey wasn’t interested in sitting. He ran. He paused to turn over rocks and study the beetles scurrying away. He ran some more, skidding to a halt to look at the leaves overhead. He saw a crow’s nest. A raucous cawing protested the intrusion and Mikey jumped up and down in glee.
Jesse and Emily sat on the blanket, laughing at Mikey’s antics.
The boy turned to them and said, “Bird.” His face worked. “Gram, bird.” With a cry, he threw himself into Emily’s arms.
Tears welled up in her eyes as she soothed the child. “Gram’s bird will be singing a little song right about now. Do you know what he’s singing?”
Mikey stopped crying. He puckered his lips as if to whistle but the sounds he made came from his throat. Yet they were surprisingly like Dickie’s birdsong.
Both Jesse and Emily burst out laughing.
Emily hugged Mikey. “That’s exactly right.”
Jesse turned his attention to opening the picnic basket and putting out the food, not wanting them to see how he struggled to control his emotions. He was reluctant to let Mikey and Emily go to strangers even though he and Gram were also strangers to them.
“Gram outdid herself. There’s fried chicken, buns, baby carrots and peas in their pods.” He continued to bring out items. “Savory little biscuits.” Little biscuits made with spicy sausage meat. She normally made them only at Christmas. He blinked furiously at the sign of her concern for this unfortunate pair. Perhaps she was lonely for more family than Jesse provided.
“I eat,” Mikey said and plunked down on the blanket.
“As soon as I say grace.” Jesse bowed his head.
“Jesse?” Emily whispered when he didn’t say anything. “Are you okay?”
“Fine.” He took her hand and reached for Mikey’s. He wished they could stay like this forever. It wasn’t possible. It had been a long time since he’d allowed himself to admit how much he wanted to be seen as worthy of a woman’s affections. However, his mother’s occupation had marked him. He was a man with no known father. The lack left part of him missing. All the more reason for him to do his best to help Emily regain her memory.
“Father God,” he prayed. “Thank You for the beauty of the world, for the joy of friends, the enthusiasm of children and food to sustain us. Grant us a safe journey and provide Emily the information she needs. In Jesus’ name. Amen.”
Emily smiled. “That was lov
ely. Like a blessing.”
“I wish nothing less than for your life to be blessed in every way.” Mikey practically drooled in anticipation and Jesse handed him a piece of chicken.
They enjoyed the picnic, finishing up with a selection of cookies.
“Gram wanted to be sure we didn’t go hungry,” Emily said as she packed away the leftovers.
Mikey had taken to running again. Not going anywhere. Just running.
“Let him enjoy himself,” Jesse said, in no hurry to leave this spot. “He must get tired sitting in the wagon. Perhaps you’d like to move around, too, before we resume our trip.”
“Good idea.”
He scrambled to his feet and held his hand out to help her, keeping hold of it once she was upright. Mikey had headed toward a pile of rocks a few yards from where they’d eaten and they followed him. He climbed on the rocks and waved his arms.
Jesse saw a patch of blue flowers hiding in the grass and guided Emily toward them.
“Bluebells. I love them.” She knelt and lifted each shy head. She sat back on her heels, a look of peace upon her face.
He squatted beside her, wanting to share the moment.
She turned to him, her eyes a luminous blue as if they’d captured the color of the sky and the flowers. “What a good reminder. God tends each little flower. How much more will He take care of me?”
For the first time, he realized how uncertain she was about this trip and what she would discover. He cupped her chin with his hand and quoted a verse from the passage where Jesus had taught about the flowers of the field. “‘Take therefore no thought for the morrow: for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself.’” He meant it to encourage her, but it was an equally good reminder to him.
He plucked one stem of the bluebells and handed it to her, knowing he would never again see the delicate flower without remembering this moment. If only he had time to get to know her better. Normally he guarded his heart from such emotions, but her state of mind had brought out a protectiveness in him that was reluctant to let go.
They got to their feet and faced each other.
A cloud drifted over the sun and a cool breeze teased their skin.
She shivered and her eyes darkened.
“Are you cold?” He’d welcomed the breeze to relieve the heat.
“Cold? No.” Her gaze went past him, darted from place to place. Tension caught at the corners of her mouth. She made nervous motions with her fingers as if chasing something away.
He wanted to hold her, still her frantic movements, but she seemed unaware of him and he feared to startle her, perhaps sending her into a panic.
“There’s a storm coming. I should have noticed. I shouldn’t be here. I can’t stay.” Her eyes were glazed as she stared into the clouded sky.
He was almost certain she relived something from her past and he could no longer stand back and leave her struggling alone. He caught her by the shoulders, cautiously gauging her reaction. “Emily, it’s okay.”
He knew from the way she shivered that it wasn’t. Had she regained her memory? If so, would she remember where she was and who he was? But, more importantly at the moment, was her memory troublesome?
*
Emily clung shamelessly to Jesse as the fear ebbed. It was something from her past, but what? And why did the approaching storm frighten her? Why did she feel she had to run away? Why had regret and distress darkened her thoughts? What had she done that was so wrong?
“You’re okay. You’re safe. I would never let anything harm you.” His words quenched the nameless uncertainty, filling her with assurance.
“I’m fine now.” Not quite fine enough to stand on her own two feet, though.
He leaned back to look into her face. “Do you remember who I am?”
She smiled. “Of course. You’re my rescuer, Sheriff Jesse Hill.”
Relief filled his eyes. “I thought you had remembered your past. Doc warned me you might forget what happened from the time after your accident until the moment you get your memory back.” His smile was lopsided.
“He told me the same thing.” Why must she have only one or the other?
Mikey’s scream tore her from Jesse’s arms and she raced toward the boy, who lay on the ground by the pile of rocks.
He sat up and held his arms out to her.
“Oh, Mikey.” He’d fallen on a sharp rock and cut his forehead, and it bled profusely.
Jesse was at her side, taking out his handkerchief to wipe away the blood. “It’s not deep.”
“Thank goodness.” She took Mikey in her arms and hurried back to the wagon. “I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t have stayed.” Why did she use those words? It wasn’t what she meant and yet they seemed stuck in her head. “I’m supposed to be taking care of him. Now he will go to his new home with a cut on his forehead. I shouldn’t—” She stopped herself before she could say anything more because the words did not fit the situation and yet she couldn’t get past them.
Jesse helped her to the wagon seat. “It was an accident. He’s an active little boy. His new parents will love him even with a cut on his head. Or they aren’t worthy of him.”
His words did little to comfort her. And it wasn’t just because Mikey had had a fall.
It was the thoughts that continued to echo in her head.
It was also the knowledge that she would soon say goodbye to Jesse and start over again. He and Gram were the only people she knew at the moment, and the thought of leaving them left her floundering.
It was also the fear of what she’d learn when she found out who she was. Telling herself she had nothing to fear did not help.
“They’ll love him when they see him,” she said in answer to Jesse’s comment.
“Yes, they will.”
She looked ahead, facing her future. She had to move on as Emily Smith…someone she didn’t remember and someone with something in her past that frightened her.
Jesse gathered up the blanket and the picnic basket, stowed them in the back of the wagon and they were on their way again.
Mikey sat on her knees and fell asleep. She let the warm sun and the steady creak of the wagon and clomp of the horses’ hooves lull her into a drowsy state.
Her head slumped forward and she jerked awake. “How much farther?”
“We’re getting close, according to the directions George gave me. Mr. Newman said they were near the fork where one road went west over the mountains and the other continued north toward the British Territories. George remembered it clearly because Mr. Newman said Oregon lay to the west and he’d heard good things about Oregon. Look, there’s a fork now. I expect that’s the one he meant.”
Jesse reined in the horses, and Emily sat up and looked about. “There’s no house here.”
“There’s a trail to the right. It probably leads to a homestead. We’ll ask there.”
The trail was two ruts the width of the wagon wheels. They’d gone a short distance when she made out a house, a barn and a few outbuildings. Smoke came from the chimney. As they drew closer, she made out three horses, a cow in the pasture and chickens running free.
Her heart clenched. Her chest hurt. She didn’t remember reaching for Jesse’s hand but she squeezed it rather hard.
She and Mikey were about to start a new chapter in their lives.
The chickens scattered as the wagon entered the yard. Jesse pulled to a halt. “Hello, the house,” he called.
A woman opened the door. The first thing Emily noticed was the baby in her arms and the toddler at her side. She’d expected Mrs. Newman to be childless. Why else would she be seeking to adopt?
A man stepped out of the barn. “Howdy, strangers. What can I do for you?”
“Are you the Newmans?” Jesse said.
“’Fraid not,” the man said.
“You know of anyone hereabouts with that name?”
The man scratched his head. “Well, now. This here place used to belong to John Newman. He and
his wife sold it to us. They be the folks you’re looking for?”
“That’s the people,” Jesse said. “Mind telling me where they went?”
“Sure thing. They packed up and headed for Oregon. Said they was meeting some other folks to make the journey. That’s about all I can tell you, except they said to send any correspondence that came for them to Oregon City. Hope it weren’t important what you wanted them for.”
Emily could hardly swallow. One hand clung to Jesse, the other clutched Mikey tight. Of all the things she thought this trip would bring to pass, news of the Newmans moving away had never entered her head.
“Thanks for your help.” Jesse touched the brim of his hat and reined the horses in a circle. Not until they were several yards down the trail did either of them speak.
“What now?” he asked.
“I simply don’t know. I’m no closer to knowing who I am. Mikey is without a family and—” She couldn’t finish.
They reached the road and he turned back in the direction from which they’d come.
“I’ll take you back to Bella Creek and you can send a letter to them.”
“How long before they get there, do you suppose?”
“I can’t rightly say, but I suppose a month more or less, depending on circumstances.”
“They might be there already. I’ll write as soon as we get back. But—”
“But how are you going to get him to them now they are in Oregon?”
She nodded. “I can’t see them making the return journey this year. They’d end up crossing the mountain passes after the snows came.” She couldn’t send Mikey with strangers making the journey. She couldn’t think what she should do.
“You can only do what is humanly possible. The results are in God’s hands.”
“I know.” She sounded as uncertain as she felt. “I counted on this leading me to my past so I could learn who I am.”
“Don’t despair. God will provide another way.”
She didn’t answer. It felt to her like all possible avenues led nowhere.
They rattled along on the trail back to Bella Creek.
Mikey squirmed and fussed. She gave him a drink of water. He continued to squirm. She put him by her feet but he wasn’t happy.
